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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880774">To Strive Against the Words Of The Shore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonclubhouse/pseuds/Raccoonclubhouse'>Raccoonclubhouse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Frankenstein - Mary Shelley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Canon Divergent, Caroline isnt there as much?, Flashback</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:01:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raccoonclubhouse/pseuds/Raccoonclubhouse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What could lead a man to strive to the likes of possessing the ability to make the rotting morsels of the morgue once decaying thrive once again in life? What had made this supposed passion feel more akin to a labourous duty prescribed upon him and fated in youth? Victor Frankenstein could not lead to bring a clear answer, as why would one need a reason? Beyond ones own knowledge,something had always driven him to this fate,some  incident stuck within to drive the force</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Strive Against the Words Of The Shore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Victor is youthful,more then that,a child, eyes round with nothing but innocence and wonder,a meek little thing,nonetheless happy. He stood closely to his parents,whom,while a little uneased in moments for reasons Victor never comprehended,were otherwise happy. They were on the move at a constant, place to place. Victor took in every new scene with that childish enchantment. On occasion Victor would be disturbed from his slumber in the middle of the night to move,his parents lost the appeal of the scenery easily he reckoned,always so rushed to get to the next place,never a time to settle and establish any form of attachment. Take in what he could of those astounding places before they darted right off on path. He held a stronge detestment towards the spontanous nature of it,often crying out in the night to his parents frightened discretion, he must not make a scene. Despite it,he had adjusted to the pattern mildly..</p><p> </p><p>Now he was by some shore he didn't care to remember the name of,a quaint little cottage where waves crashed against the jutting rocks that lay below it. </p><p>it soothed Victor,lulled him to a comfortable sleep. Everything was a quaint solace,he felt safe,resting.<br/>
It was temporary ,a commotion in the other room had broken out, bewteen his father and a voice he hadnt recognized. Victor moved out from his place of rest, and with little feet tiptoed over to the origin of the altercation. </p><p>"Beaufort! Listen-"<br/>
"I dont *want* to listen,Frankenstein, tell me where Caroline is,I want to see my daughter. "</p><p>"Would it be so *difficult* for us to talk this out,civilly? We are dear friends arent we?"<br/>
"You know those words mean nothing to regard us,haven't for a long time. You've taken and run off with my daughter in the night,the only one whom I have left! And to so graciously add insult to injury,you took my own money in the process. Have something to use instead of your abundance of fortune. Because you knew i would chase you down until each penny of it dwindles."</p><p>"I always hated that about you,youre so dedicated ,passions get over your head, your reasoning...I love and care for her,as does she. Our union is one of upmost joy. Our days have been nothing but that of bliss. "<br/>
"You *betrayed* me,you wretch! You took the last thing I had,and like a coward you ran. You ran away from confrontation,a horrible mistake. Where is she?"</p><p>Alphonse pulls out something that glistens against the reflection of the moonlight, long and metal,Victor is too far away to distinguish it.<br/>
Victor comes out fully,seeing the newcomer with tired eyes unaware of their relation<br/>
"*Who* is that?"<br/>
"Victor,hes our son.Hes only four"<br/>
Victor gets frightened as the other draws near<br/>
"She had a *son?*"<br/>
"Yes..we didn't mean too, but-"<br/>
"Give me my daughter back,im taking everything from you like you did from me."<br/>
He pushed Victor aside in an enraged flurry,heading towards the bedroom.<br/>
Alphonse,beside oneself,needed to act fast. He stormed up towards Beaufort ||and struck a knife in his back,twisting it deeply. He yanked it out and Beaufort collapsed, convulsing in agony and shock. Alphonse struck over and over. Each prolonged and deep,drawing it out.Beaufort turned his bloodied face to glare at Victor,his sole witness,his grandson,Victor saw his eyes lose its life. Looking directly at yet past Victor.||</p><p>Alphonses demeanor shifted,pale as a ghost,noticing his son.<br/>
"Victor.."<br/>
His voice is shaking in remorse and utter fear,it tries to be soothing.<br/>
Victor came closer,seeing the dead man's eyes for himself. He doesnt stay long,immediately retreating back into the corner. Hands over his eyes,teary and puffy, terror striken of the deed. It all felt out of his control,he hated the sensation.<br/>
"Dont be afraid. Victor. I wont hurt you,he was going to hurt you."<br/>
Victor sniffles. Alphonse picks up the corpse.<br/>
"What happens to him,Pa?"</p><p>"Hm? Hes gone."<br/>
"When does he come back?"<br/>
Alphonse is walking out of the cottage,moving quite fast towards the cliff.<br/>
"He doesn't. That's the thing about death,Victor.. Its beyond anyone's power. Life,death,creation, its all out of our control. By forces untouched to man"<br/>
Alphonse  rambling calms and distracts him,so he continues. Hes moving towards the edge,Victor overhears enraged cries of the rushing seas take over the air. The salty scent of it overwhelming his senses</p><p>"Some are bound to deaths as these. Do not fret of this to happen to you,son,this man was a fool, a wretch,always too forward in his commitment of passion,stepping in places with an immense dedication  to be untreaded."</p><p>Beaufort is thrown down, the fierce waters engulf him without a tinge of mercy spared, if any could for a dead man. A brief scarlet stains the dark blue, scarcely visible it breaks up and dissipates. The whole figure of the man is gulped beyond sight that envelops everything in a peculiar silence. Its perturbed as Alphonse pulls himself away from the sight,though Victor stared onwards</p><p>"Death is a powerful thing,no man has ever solved it,and no man will. In truth,that is fortunate. There are those that have to be rid. "<br/>
Alphonse leans down and placed a stained hand onto Victors little shoulder,smiling,barely. He was evidently in shock,as was Victor.<br/>
"You do not speak of this. It was for the best. Soon,you won't even remember this. And that will be bliss"</p><p>The seas below grow and grow,coming closer,the smell of salt fills the room,water leaks from the doorway.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>AHSHDHDHFHFBF THIS WAS...ah..a flashback I wrote as a reply in a role play I tried to tweak up to sound good lmao. I got scared shitless to post this bc its written a lot more rushed given what it is but I hoped uhjHH u liked the twist and it didn't seem too cheesy? Victors reasons for like,makin tc have always been pretty brief?? Idk. Fun to experiment mdude</p></blockquote></div></div>
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